


Therapy

by obaewankenope (rexthranduil)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: DeadCat forgive, Flamethrower's Re-Entry universe is a sandbox of creativity, Obi-Wan needs therapy, Re-entry verse, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:19:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexthranduil/pseuds/obaewankenope
Summary: "Hindsight is 20-20 Obi-Wan.” “You say that like it will change anything.”





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flamethrower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/gifts).



> I wanted to write a bitter Obi-Wan who realises he's been a doormat for the Jedi his entire life. Instead this happened... I kinda like it. [This is the post I made on it btw](http://obaewankenope.tumblr.com/post/150336508292/obaewankenope-i-want-to-write-a-fic-with)

A soft light from the wall lights illuminated the small space, throwing contrasting highlights and shadows across the two figures reclining in the only two seats in the room. The window to the left of them was tinted, a thin curtain half-drawn, blocking out the artificial brightness from the pulsing world outside.

A soft sigh broke the gentle silence in the room, material shifting as Doctor J’Haro stared at the figure opposite her.

“Hindsight is 20-20 Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan chuckled lightly, a bitterness to his gaze even though his face remained smooth. “You say that like it will change anything.”

“You look at the chronometer like it will make time go quicker.” She replied, a calm look on her features, amber eyes sharp and observant. Their glow made Obi-Wan uneasy, though not for the reasons most would assume.

Then again… the reasons why he was currently in this room, talking about his feelings, was already assumed.

 _If only they knew_. He shook his head, glancing down at his lap, gaze skittering over the coarse fabric of his trousers.

“If the time went any quicker Doctor, I’d be concerned with the state of the universe.” Obi-Wan quipped, giving her a perfunctionary smile that didn’t fool her for a second.

“Why is that Obi-Wan?” 

_Ah, how to explain_ that _I wonder._ Obi-Wan shrugged, shoulder lifting in a lazy roll. “You’ll need to be more specific I’m afraid Doctor.”

“In each of our sessions Obi-Wan, you have referred to time passing and have noted a concern with it being illusory.” Doctor J’Haro replied, glancing down at her notes, the act a pointless play in their game. Both of them were aware she knew his file back-to-front and inside-out. “I’d like to understand your reasoning behind this Obi-Wan.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan asked, giving her a bland look that did nothing to hide the sudden tension in his frame. _Damn it._ J’Haro’s sharp gaze catalogued his tension a single sweep.

“Call me curious.” J’Haro shrugged languidly, shoulder rolling gracefully in a way Obi-Wan distantly envied. Graceful curiosity was so difficult a thing to pull off when you were intensely interested in the outcome after all.

“Curiosity killed the cat Doctor, I’m sure you’ve heard the expression.” Obi-Wan shot back.

J’Haro grinned, sharp canines showing. “It hasn’t killed me yet Obi-Wan.”

 _First time for everything_. Obi-Wan sighed. Frowning, he looked out of the window, idly cataloguing the speeders flying past the window of the tower they were in.

Doctor J’Haro’s office was less than an hour from the Temple, and though it was unusual, she had preferred a space outside of the Temple that had been her home until her twenty-fourth year. An accomplished Jedi Master in her own right, Obi-Wan had heard of J’Haro purely by chance during a visit to the Healer’s.

At first he had thought it would be best if he were to see someone outside the Temple who would at least be capable of understanding his dilemma.

Now however, he was cursing his decision.

“I dream that I died.” 

J’Haro watched him in silent appraisal. He could feel her gaze on him - only her gaze, the Force not acting on her will to watch him and that was a strange sensation indeed, a Jedi who didn’t use the Force for sensing - but he ignored the urge to fidget.

“I know I did, I have the proof on my body”– Obi-Wan’s gaze narrowed, eyes distant – “but at the same time I feel like I’ve lost everything to a future I haven’t lived. And every day I wake up I… I _panic_.”

The disorienting sensation of waking up in a place both familiar and unfamiliar, surrounded by echoes in the Force that were simultaneously alive and _not_ … gods but it left his heart beating wildly each morning, panting for breath and reaching for a lightsaber his hands had forgotten the feel of over thirty years ago.

“I know that this is reality, I _know_ that. I know that what I experienced, everything I remember and have scars from… is what did happen to me in a future I don’t think I’ll ever experience again. But I _did_ experience it.” Obi-Wan stopped, forcing his gaze from the window, onto J’Haro who stared at him with a patient look on her face. “I feel like I’m losing time every day, but I don’t know _why_ I feel like that. _Or_ how to stop it from happening.”

“Have you considered the possibility that you feel like you’re losing time because of these experiences you both have and haven’t had? That they are affecting your perception of reality as it is, and are clouding your judgement?” J’Haro asked calmly, her words polite and not judgemental unlike some of the words of Master’s in the Temple. “I ask this Obi-Wan because I recognise you are under a lot of stress - much of it the result of this ‘vision’ and a past that is, for the rest of us, only a potential future.”

Obi-Wan didn’t answer, unsure as to what he could say.

J’Haro sighed, setting the stylus in her hand down on the tablet in her lap. She fixed Obi-Wan with a heavy stare, some mix of levity and kindness in her amber eyes. “Obi-Wan. Your time in the Temple, your entire life has thus far been a conglomerate of stressful events with very little time between for any true self-reflection aside from meditation. It is perfectly reasonable then that this vision has upset your coping mechanisms at present, leaving you feeling like you _should_ be doing more than you are - even if there isn’t anything _to_ do.”

“My Padawanship wasn’t stressful.” Even to Obi-Wan’s ears his automatic defence sounded weak and the raised eyebrow J’Haro gave him highlighted that weakness. “It wasn’t. Not entirely.”

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. “I mean, some of it was very stressful I can’t deny that. But it wasn’t so stressful that I couldn’t handle it.”

J’Haro sighed, tapping her tablet with a sharp clawed nail. “You adapted to the stress.” She corrected bluntly. “That doesn’t mean you _should_ have experienced so much so young. I’m not casting judgement on your abilities Obi-Wan. I’m merely pointing out that as a Padawan, you experienced far more than most Jedi _Knights_ do, and these experiences have shaped you into the person sat in front of me today.”

“There is little by way of details in your Temple file but, like the Temple is wont to do, gossip and chatter is abound always. Your current Knighting, and subsequent actions with the Yinchorri has brought forth a rapid revival of the gossip pertaining to you and your once-Master.” J’Haro gave Obi-Wan a commiserating smile when he rolled his eyes. She too had experienced the Temple gossip wheel more than once in her life. “The reason I mention the gossip wheel is because it provided more information about the things you experienced as a Padawan, and I believe provided me with an important aspect of your personality that I daresay few realise about you.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan’s voice was mild and pleasant but there was a sharp look in his grey-blue eyes. J’Haro wasn’t cowed by the look; only prey cowed under such a gaze and she was no prey. “And what did you ‘realise’ about me Doctor?”

J’Haro pushed back the urge to grin widely at the challenge in Obi-Wan’s gaze. She was here as a therapist, not as a fellow hunter. Even if she dearly wished to engage Knight Kenobi in witty repartee.

“That your entire experience as a Jedi Padawan with Master Jinn was the result of offering to blow yourself into the afterlife while wearing a slave collar with an explosive component in it.”

Obi-Wan didn’t move, didn’t even blink to acknowledge J’Haro’s words, but she sensed he was very much alert and watchful. A predator’s stillness.

“That you were set to join the AgriCorps even though you showed the greatest promise among your age-mates and, had it not been for said offering of explosive suicide, you would have been destined for the life of a farmer.”

A blink. Slow. “Your point Doctor?”

“My point Obi-Wan is this: you became a Jedi Padawan to a Jedi Master who had rejected you publicly and then accepted you after you acted selflessly in such a way that put many learned Jedi to shame. You then remained with Master Jinn, through a number of traumatic and stressful experiences which defined your Padawanship with Master Jinn - to the point where you participated in a full-scale war at fourteen, protected the Duchess Satine at fifteen from assassination for six months, and then woke up from a week-long coma at the age of sixteen with a lifetime of experiences and scars to match that tell of a difficult life with very little time for healing.” J’Haro stared at Obi-Wan. 

“That is not a point Doctor, that is repetition of well-known facts.”

“Then consider _this_ my point Obi-Wan. Your _entire experience_ as a Jedi, up until the coma was one trial after another during the most important stage of humanoid development. Your brain chemistry, physical growth and psychological state of mind were all irrevocably altered by these events, thus setting you up for the ability to handle stressful events, traumatic experiences and even constant negative judgement by other’s. All because you yourself, at the core of yourself, have a negative view of your own worth.”

Obi-Wan blinked. A smirk crossed his face. “You think I have low self-esteem?”

J’Haro snorted out a breath of air, shaking her head. “No. I don’t think that at all. But what is often mistaken as your sense of self and worth is _not_ self-esteem. No. You are perfectly aware of your abilities and have no need to doubt them. But you _do_ doubt _yourself_ , on a deep, personal level.”

“Humanoids are social creatures Obi-Wan - even the most removed of humanoids still require some degree of socialisation in order to be mentally sound. This means that our sense of self, our identity, can be influenced and altered by other’s; especially when we are young and dependent upon other’s for care and protection.” J’Haro picked up her stylus, tapping it against her tablet lightly. “In most cases, we receive positive affirmation of both our abilities and our actions as we grow. This is what enables us to develop and become emotionally and mentally stable in adulthood. But. In some cases - such as when a young child experiences traumatic events such as being a slave, or warfare when they’re developing” - she gave Obi-Wan a knowing look - “in these cases, our sense of self can be damaged in a way. Our identity forms under duress, leaving us with imperfect foundations on which we build ourselves up on.”

“You’re inferring that my ‘foundations’ are imperfect and this is why I’m having problems identifying reality when I wake up from dreaming?” Obi-Wan asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“No. Though I daresay that your identity formation does affect your everyday perception.” J’Haro disagreed, though she gave Obi-Wan a slight smile, recognising his attempt at deflecting her. “You have experienced a significant number of things that a Padawan of your age at the time would never have been exposed to. And you experienced all of this in the company of a man who _desperately_ needs therapy for his own problems.”

“I’d be impressed if you could get Qui-Gon in this room to discuss his problems Doctor.” Obi-Wan smirked, amused at the idea. _When Hutts fly._

“Master Jinn has already received rudimentary counselling from Healer’s in the Temple.” J’Haro pointed out. “Though I would prefer he receive more, preferably several sessions instead of two three-hour sessions with a Mind Healer with a dozen other patients to tend to.” She frowned, glancing down at her tablet and Obi-Wan realised that J’Haro was annoyed.

“You really think he needs it don’t you?” He asked softly.

“Of course.” J’Haro tilted her head, amber eyes locked with Obi-Wan’s grey-blue. “Meditation is useful for solving immediate problems and aiding in processing issues through the Force, but it is best not to be used alone for dealing with your problems. Sharing your issues with someone who is trained to help you work through your problems - even if my profession is disparaged as ‘talk therapy’ - enables you to utilise an outside perspective with no vested interest save your own state of mind.”

She gave him a slightly smile. “But back to you Obi-Wan.”

 _Damn_. Obi-Wan sighed. Just when he’d hoped to distract her.

“Your formative years were defined by stressful, high-risk situations where you often found yourself in physical danger; having to rely on your own abilities without the back-up of your Master in the same degree other Padawan’s have. Though that is more due to the nature of the missions you and Master Jinn received from the Council than any failing on your Master’s part. In addition to such high-risk situations, you also spent several years acting in the role of a carer for a man who very much needed someone by his side who cared. You took on a role of responsibility that you _shouldn’t have had to_ , and you did it without hesitation or resentment.” J’Haro paused, an inscrutable look on her face.

Obi-Wan found that her words were striking far closer to home than he preferred. The verbal reminder of how volatile and challenging his early years with Qui-Gon had been… it was not enjoyable. Even if it was somewhat enlightening.

“It speaks to your own sense of self and the importance you place upon yourself as an individual worthy of care, that you are so willing to care for other’s. Even at the cost of your own safety and state of mind.”

“I’m a Jedi. We matter not compared to the lives of other’s.” Obi-Wan replied automatically.

J’Haro raised a skeptical brow. “You are also a person. The will of the Force aside, you cannot give everything you are without consideration to your own needs. To do so is both self-defeatist and destructive. How are you to help other’s in need if you cannot even sleep through the night because you have nightmares you refuse to confront?”

“I do my duty as a Jedi.”

“Your duty should not supersede your health Obi-Wan. Not to the extent where you cause yourself _unnecessary suffering_ so as to please other’s.” J’Haro stressed, eyes sharp. 

“What do you propose I do then?” Obi-Wan asked sharply. “Do I ignore my duty as a Jedi? Favour myself over other’s and decide to be selfish? No.” He shook his head. “I am not that sort of person.”

“I propose you have a measure of self-preservation so you don’t burn yourself out when taking the fate of the galaxy upon your shoulders.” J’Haro shot back. “I am a Jedi also Obi-Wan, but being a Jedi doesn’t mean sacrificing yourself for other’s without consideration of _your worth as a person_. You are a sentient being, capable of the same things as every other person in the galaxy. Our ability to interact with the Force places us in a moral position to act so that other’s need not suffer unnecessarily. But that _doesn’t_ mean we can’t take care of _ourselves_.”

“Obi-Wan.” J’Haro sighed, leaning forward in her seat slightly. She fixed Obi-Wan with a soft gaze. “I am not telling you to stop being a Jedi. I am not telling you to change. Only asking you to recognise that sometimes we must be selfish and care about ourselves and our health, before we can care about other’s.”

Obi-Wan glanced at the chronometer. He smiled.

“Time’s up Doctor.”


End file.
